The Whirligig of Time
by D. M. Evans
Summary: Drusilla, believing Xander's love spell has made Spike jealous and angry, decides to get revenge


Whirligig of Time  
Author - D. M. Evans  
Disclaimer - Everything is owned by Joss et al. I'm just happy to have a chance to play in his sandbox  
Email- geekgirzrus@yahoo.com  
Summary - Dru, believing Xander's love spell has caused Spike to be jealous and angry, decides to make Xander pay.  
Spoilers - none really. Takes place after 'Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered'  
Rating - PG- 13  
Pairings - none really  
Warnings - none really, it's a rather bloodless death  
Distribution - I Offed Xander, slayer fan fic, www.fanfiction.net, if you're interested, ask  
  
Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.   
Twelfth Night. Act v. Sc. 1.  
  
The sun hangs above me bright as the lemon drops I used to love. I'm looking at the sun and it doesn't burn. Spike says it's not the sun but a water spot on the ceiling. What does he know? My bright boy is mad at me anyhow. That's why I'm lying on the table basking under my lemony sun.  
  
Sometimes my dear Spike can be so cruel, not at all fun. He needs to eat more but he can't hunt. Poor, poor thing all folded up in his chair with the squeaky wheels. It puts him in a miserable mood. Bad Slayer for hurting my Spike so. One day I'll drop an organ on her, too, or something even more fun. Leeches and hot pokers.  
  
Daddy had an idea to make Spike happy. We played all sorts of sweaty games then he sent me to show Spike all those fun things. My sweet boy sniffed me like a puppy and went all vinegary. Daddy just smirked when I ran away from all the mean words Spike spat at me like holy water on my skin. Skin like a sensitive pearl, begging for touches. Daddy likes to touch but my sweet Spike seems so different now. Less happy, even less happy than when I first pulled him from the burning church. Even Miss Edith can't cheer him up.  
  
Under the sun I've been thinking about why Spike is so angry with me, so jealous. Dark eyes haunt these sunlit dreams. Dark thick hair, yes those are the reasons Spike is so out of sorts. He can't forgive that love. Poor Spike, I have to make him happy again. My dark kitten made me love him. I didn't want to. He even made me hurt Daddy. That was bad. I think back on the look on Daddy's face when I threw him into the tree. Oooo, so angry because I had finally found a real man. He told Spike. Daddy would. He likes to hurt me so.   
  
I smile, thinking on the look on Daddy's face that night. It was fun, really, hurting him. It was like tea with the Queen. How I loved my dark kitten with the face like a poem. Poetry, how I love it. Spike, my bright, sweet poet and the dark kitten who is poetry, for a moment I think I need them both. Daddy laughed when the house rejected me, nasty nasty house. Then, as fast as it came, my love was gone. My dark kitten never had the chance to be with me forever. Maybe that was good. Spike would never understand.  
  
Nor do I. How can a heart love one moment then not the next? Daddy said it was witchcraft. He may be right. He always is. Falling in love so fast felt like magic. The stars whispered it could be true. Like the burning of a cross, anger bubbles up in me. How dare the dark kitten make me love him? How dare he ruin our happy home? He had to pay.  
  
"Drusilla!"  
  
Spike sounds cranky. He usually is if he wakes up and I'm not there to greet the moon with him. I walk into our bedroom and take out some clean clothing for my boy. I kiss him but he pulls away. I can't keep in the moan of disappointment. Those eyes like a stormy day in Dover soften a bit and he strokes my hair.  
  
"I'm sorry I yelled, poodle."  
  
He always is sorry. Always makes it better afterwards. I kiss him again then pull down the covers so I can help him dress. It's hard to make his legs go into his pants but soon he'll be better and he'll run with me and Daddy again. I sit him up and he's still has that angry look but it's a different one. This one's not for me. This one is for the bitch who put him in the chair. I take Miss Edith from her bed and put her in his hands.  
  
"You do Miss Edith's hair while I finish getting you dressed," I said, kissing his soft hair.  
  
"Dru," he moaned.  
  
He doesn't do her hair and I pretend I don't notice as I finish helping him with his boots. I hear Daddy's big feet stomping into the room. I giggle as he lifts me up from where I'm kneeling in front of Spike doing up his laces. Daddy whirls me around, smiling at Spike.   
  
"Are you done with the charity case, Dru? I feel like veal tonight. Want to hit the grade school parent-teacher night?" Daddy asks, kissing my cheek.  
  
I hear Spike growling as Daddy sets me down. "No. I have to go find the dark kitten and make him pay for making us all so sad and blue like shadows. You boys play. I'll bring you something to eat when I come home Spike," I said, heading out. As I go I hear Daddy say, "You heard her, Spikey. Let's play. Where's the steepest hill in Sunnydale? We can bet on how fast it takes you to get to the bottom."  
  
***  
  
I know something of where young people like to go. The Bronze makes the perfect snack bar. I use it often enough. It's just a matter of making sure the tiny blonde Slayer isn't around. That's the thing about Slayers. There's only one of them and you can live a good long life if you just avoid them.  
  
That's my plan. Spike likes to borrow trouble. He's the one who likes to play with Slayers. Daddy does, too. It's fun to watch them play. But tonight is a night for work, not play. The stars whisper it to the moon. Play time later, slay time now.  
  
Inside it is loud and hot. The beat of the drums reminds me of what my heart felt like once. It's a good feeling. I don't know the music. It makes me want to dance. Oh, how I love to dance.  
  
But then I see her and all desire to dance dies like all my flowers and pretty birds do. Nothing of mine ever lives long. So sad, so much love to give and nothing lives long enough to enjoy it other than my sweet boys.  
  
The Slayer is here with my dark kitten. They sit all together with a girl who has hair that shimmers like beautiful fire and the other one with the beauty of the night in her eyes. My dark kitten likes her. Has he forgotten me so soon? I'll make him pay for that.  
  
I can't play with the kitten until the Slayer is gone. I might not be able to fight this Slayer alone. She is a tough one, just ask my boys. Instead I glide up to the balcony to watch. It's like flying, being up over everyone, like riding the moon. They dance some. My dark kitten can't dance. How could I ever love him? My Spike dances like light on the water. I remember how beautiful that is.  
  
Too many people flitter about. It makes my tummy pulse with the beat of the drums. All these lovely snacks dancing around me and I can't even take a nibble. Can't let the Slayer know I'm here.  
  
They finally leave the club. They're sweaty and happy. It rides like perfume on the breeze as I follow. I grin just a little as the Slayer separates from them, probably going to look for more of my kind. Daddy has her all worked up. It's so fun to think about, like a party. She hesitates not far from me. Oh, she must smell me on the wind, hear my name in the stars but she doesn't find me.   
  
Lucky me, wish upon a star. I watch her be swallowed by the night then I track my dark kitten as he walks home with the other two girls. The one with the night beauty keeps moaning about her dead car and how unfair it was. I would teach her unfair. I wait until we are in a dark quiet place. The Slayer is too far away to help, too bad for the kitten.  
  
Like the moonlight slipping through the clouds, I run through the shadows until I get ahead of them. When I step into view, the girls scream a lullaby, so pretty. Terror tastes so good.  
  
"Run!" My dark kitten cries. How sweet. He remembers me.  
  
All three scramble. I love it when they make me work up an appetite. I'm like a greyhound, like a bird, lightening. It takes no effort to catch my kitten. I spin him around, holding him tight.  
  
"Why did you make me love you?"  
  
"I...um, a little help please," he whimpers, trying to pull away.  
  
"Xander," the girl of fire cries as she bats at me.   
  
I sweep her away, sending her flying into the other girl. They both cry out as they land. I laugh, hearing the snap of bone. My kitten tries to stomp on my foot to make me let him go.  
  
"Willow! Cordy! Don't hurt them."  
  
"Tell me why you made me love you," I insist on knowing. I watch as the girls try to get up. The nighttime one staggers up and tries to help the flame but she just cries holding her ankle.  
  
"I think it's broken. Run, Cordy. Get help."  
  
I don't worry about her. I can get her at my leisure but I must have an answer to my question, I shake him so hard I hear the bones in his neck grind against each other.  
  
"Tell me."  
  
"It...it was a spell. It wasn't supposed to happen." He licks his lips in fear.  
  
He trembles in my hands. "A cruel cruel spell. It made my boys so angry with me. It was no fun, like a birthday with no presents."  
  
"It wasn't supposed to make you love me. How about I say I'm sorry and you let me go?" His dark eyes plead with me. He still has a face like poetry.  
  
I let go of him with one hand and he tries to jerk away. The girl of fire is still moaning, trying to crawl to us. Beside her a whirligig whistles round and round in the night air. His spell made me feel like that whirligig, all turned about, confused and fun at the same time. He needed to pay for that. I catch his chin with my fingers then wave them in front of his eyes.   
  
"Be in my eyes," I said, pointing at them. I have him now. I let go of my grip. It's bruising his tender flesh. "Be in me. I will show you love."  
  
He offers me his neck. The fire-girl screams his name again and again as I take him. He's just the kind I like. Not too old and not too young, the sweet taste of beginning manhood running through him. The blood is like honey cakes and jam. For a moment I think, maybe I should make him mine but no, my boys would just be angry and there are all ready too many men. Poor Miss Edith and I are outnumbered.  
  
I let him fall onto the grass. I pause, standing over the girl of flame. She's sobbing too hard to even be afraid for herself. I step over her. It's no fun when they can't a least try to fight back. I know it's dangerous but I hide and watch. I want to see the Slayer's face when she sees the poem I've made of him. Daddy and Spike will have me telling the tale over and over, I just know.   
  
The girl of flame holds my dark kitten, crying against his cooling body. She's still holding him with the Slayer arrives with the girl of night. Her sorrow is like a field of flowers, breathtaking to behold. I creep away, quiet like a mouse. Spike will be so happy to know that I've taken care of the bad boy who made me love him. He doesn't have to be jealous any more. 


End file.
